Tasting the Peach
by VioletWilson
Summary: "I gave you everything you asked, let you go, didn't touch you. But I will never tolerate you forgetting me. That's why I've brought you back. I'm going to make you remember. Everything." J/S
1. One

**One**

In his palace, the Goblin King paced back and forth, twirling a ribbon through his fingers and staring out the window. Her whole existence baffled him. He'd seen her now, so long after, a woman now, and seen her life. How could she exist up there? She was so ill suited for it.

She zoned out, walked into danger without the slightest care, befriended all sorts of vagrants and good for nothings and generally degraded herself among lesser people. And worse, she didn't even realize how above them she was. How had she picked _their _world over him? She was incomprehensible.

How much time had passed? He knew not, and he had absolutely sworn never to count it. No need to quantify such a meaningless set of time. No need at all. All that he knew was that it was high time she came back. This moping, sullen melancholy was intolerable, and though he'd tried everything to fill the void, it seems she was the only option.

Yes, the time had come for Sarah to come back to him. No way around it.

_xx_

All was dark and hazy when Sarah stirred from sleep. Someone was sitting on the end of her bed, and in her confusion she couldn't discern anything about the figure except that he was humming a slow, rhythmic song.

Groggily, Sarah's mind rejected the figure's presence. _Just dreaming. Just a dream. Don't be silly._

She shut her eyes.

_xx_

The figure was gone the next morning, of course, and Sarah smiled to herself. Just another figment of her imagination. It was the latest of many strange dreams and experiences she'd had of a shadowy figure skirting the edge of her vision, a fragment of song floating down to her, an owl flying in the distance.

She was able to disregard these visions for the most part, chalking it up to wishful thinking and escapism. She'd recently lost her elementary teaching job due to funding cuts, so money had been tight. Plus, she and her long time boyfriend recently broke up, and even though the split was mutual, it still pained her.

She stared wistfully out her window, sighed, and looked back down at the fruit she was cutting for lunch. No sense brooding. She was a practical, thoughtful girl, and it wasn't in her nature to fall into excessive gloom. Her imagination carried her far away to a glittering ballroom as she took a bite of the peach in her hand.

_xx_

That night, Sarah fell into a dreamless sleep, into a blackness so deep it felt like death. But something was prodding at her consciousness, a tugging sensation that was both familiar and alien, welcome and terrifying. She obeyed the impulse, and with an almost impossible effort, she pulled herself into wakefulness.

Someone was sitting at the end of her bed, looking straight at her. The gaze was like an electric jolt, and in the profound silence that followed, Sarah understood everything. No waking slumber blinded her tonight about who this man was, why he was here, what he wanted.

She had the vague notion to scream. She didn't want to go with him. This man frightened her, had always frightened her. And yet she saw herself reach out to meet the hand he extended, yearning for his touch in a way that was awful and delicious. He whispered her name, touched her hand, and pulled.


	2. Two

**Two**

Sarah awoke to a room so full of light it took her breath away. Sunk deep in silken sheets, she felt like she'd just been born, and with a deep breath she absorbed her surroundings. He was nowhere to be seen, of course. Things could never just be easy with him, he had to do it in his own peculiar, backwards fashion.

Struggling to sit up, she fought off a wave of dizzying nausea. Her head felt full of cotton, her thoughts drifted through to her like light through murky water, and her head pounded. She felt weak and faint.

Sarah knew three things with absolute certainty.

First, she was starving. She wondered vaguely how long she'd been asleep.

"Typical, he hasn't left me any food. Stupid, impractical, king" she muttered mutinously.

Second, the room had no door. But she couldn't do anything about that little issue just yet, because, thirdly, she could barely move.

Sarah felt sick and uneasy and bewildered. She wanted to give that man a piece of her mind, but she was utterly incapable of it. Lifting just her torso was a struggle, and her limbs felt like lead weights.

"Hello?" she said, tentatively. "Somebody! Let me out! Hello! Help!" Her voice was strong enough to shout though, and shout she did.

From the balcony, high above his castle, Jareth laughed the free, high laugh of a new man. He felt drunk with the knowledge the she, his precious one, was back, properly situated, and thoroughly there on his terms.

She'd taken the journey poorly, though, and immediately fallen into a comatose sleep. The king couldn't fathom it. Her body had apparently rejected something in her arrival, and it kept her asleep for her own protection.

But the Goblin King didn't mind. He liked knowing that she was there, safe and sleep in the room everyone called "Sarah's Chambers".

She'd become something of a cult figure among the kingdom's dwellers, who retold her story countless times, about how a brave young woman ran the maze and won, forever ensnaring the heart of the cold Goblin King. The whole kingdom knew she was back, and everyone was abuzz with talk of a possible marriage, another run through the maze. Jareth himself had said nothing on the subject, of course. But in his mind, he had all manner of delightful plans. They could wait, however, for Sarah was stirring, he could hear her calling and making a terrible fuss. And in a moment he was back by her side, invisible and watching.

She was calling for help, to be let free of her enchantments, threatening to resort to violence, calling Jareth's name accompanied a string of expletives strong enough to make a sailor blush. He smiled. She was still so alive and bright, even in the pallor of sickness. And she _was_sick, he noted, his smile flickering momentarily.

She was flushed and seemed unable to sit up, and her eyes, bright with tiredness, flickered wildly in all directions. That was enough for Jareth to act on.

Sarah felt the shout on her lips fade like melting candy, and her eyes grew heavy with sleep. She fought the sleeping enchantment, but oh, it was hard. A cool hand brushed across her forehead and she fell asleep, the ghost of a lullaby drifting down her feverish body.

When Sarah began to regain consciousness several hours later, Jareth was amused to hear her muttering his name, over and over, like a mantra. Her tone was anxious.

She could feel him touching her, tracing slow patterns on the underside of her arm. Hazily, she tried to pull away, but he held her fast in a grip that was firm but gentle. She could hear him murmuring something as the full weight of consciousness crashed down on her.

Her eyes began to water as she realized that she was Underground, and Jareth was right there, reclining on the bed next to her, full bodied and in the flesh. This was no dream.

She opened her eyes and sat up from the cocoon of sheets and blankets, looking at him in the low evening light. He regarded her intently, his hands folded behind him and his ridiculous boots propped lightly on a pillow. His mop of blonde hair was as shocking as ever, while his mismatched eyes took in every inch of her with relish, and she could feel herself doing the same. Taking in his form, pulling him in with her eyes, they both savored the sweetness of reunion.

It had been seven years apart for her, but how many for him? Hundreds? She couldn't even guess. The feelings washing her were strong enough that she turned away, but Jareth would have none of that.

"Look at me" he said simply. She did, and all at once that delicate, flowering sweetness vanished and Sarah Williams was furious, so angry she was choking on her rage.

"Seven years of nothing, and now you come back!" she whispered. "I was trying to just forget you! Why won't you let me? Why did you send all those dreams? It was a torment!" She was shouting again.

He reached up and stroked her cheek, and she pushed him away.

"I never felt normal after. Ever. And now you're bringing me back? I was so close to...to..." she trailed off.

"To what?" he drawled, sitting up in bed. "Moving on? Forgetting me? I can't allow it."

She made an indignant noise. "You don't get a say in the matter! You have no pow-"

Suddenly, he vanished from the bed and appeared leaning against the mantle of a fireplace on the other side of the room. Judging by his tense stance and the way he avoided her gaze, Sarah had the impression he was grappling with a powerful emotion.

His voice was low and husky when he spoke. "I gave you everything. Everything you wanted, I gave to you when you asked. I let you go, I didn't touch you. Even that wretched lover of yours, I tolerated." He looked over at her, his beloved creature, her disheveled hair, her angry, cruel eyes, the tempting way her loose sleeping shirt hung on her form.

"But I will never tolerate you forgetting me. That's why you're here. I'm going to make you remember. Everything."

_xx_

_Hello! I realize I never introduced myself. I'm Violet, nice to meet you. Do leave me a review. I reply to all of them and it's terribly encouraging for me!_

_Hope all is well._

_-Vi_


	3. Three

**Three**

"M..make me remember?" she stuttered. He grinned a wide, predatory smile.

"Stuttering? I suppose you haven't changed all that much, my dear. But just look at you, you've grown up... _considerably._" he drew out the word in a way that made Sarah shiver.

Abruptly conscious of her own body, Sarah realized that she was still in her sleeping shirt from home, her hair was a tangled mess that stuck unattractively to her forehead, and by the look of her palms she was twice as pale as usual, which was saying something.

Jareth smirked as if he knew her thoughts. She mentally shut him out of her head. No more mind games. She wouldn't play with him.

Leaning closer to her, he tilted his head inquisitively. "Am I to be denied the sound of your voice? Why this silence?" upon her continued blank stare, he spoke again, louder this time, "Speak!"

She huffed, folded her arms, and muttered out, "I'm hungry."

Abruptly, Jareth laughed, and the sound pealing like bells through the still room.

"So you are mortal after all. I was almost certain you were a fairy. Of course, I'll fetch you some food." Standing to leave, he walked to the window and paused, before turning back to her. Hesitatingly, he asked, "What is it you eat, exactly?"

Now it was Sarah's turn to laugh. "Bring me some toast and coffee. Please."

The demon king looked horrified. "Coffee? I won't tolerate such nonsense." And, throwing her a rakish grin, he vanished on the spot.

_xx_

Fifty miles away, Sir Didymus heard the first news of his long-lost fair maiden in many, many years.

"Egads! Ambrocious! Come, noble steed! We must away this moment, for I've heard the most terrible news!"

Ambrocious lifted his head and barked once, as if to say, "Well, what?"

Didymus was panting with anxiety, and it was all he could do to stutter out, "Lady Sarah! Back! Rescue!"

Ambrocious lumbered to his feet, and Didymus hopped on his back, and the daring little pair bobbed across the bridge and began the trek to the castle. It was a long journey, but Didymus had little time to waste.

Sarah's return, he thought to himself, was the worst possible thing that could've happened to her, and he must hurry to reach her before the game ended.

Above all else, Sarah had to be warned. Didymus knew the rules were unfair, geared so that Jareth was the only one who knew them. She would be unprepared. It was different when she was just a young girl, but now that Sarah was old enough, she was in grave danger of never going home again.

"Onwards, Ambrocious! The game is afoot!"

_xx_

Jareth didn't return for a long while. Sarah took the time to clothe herself with a dress from the closet and to poke around the room. It was simple and elegant, with mostly pale blue furniture and no trinkets or embellishments. The furniture was grand, but faded with age and lack of attention. The huge bed, which faced a large fireplace, dominated the majority of the room, and the entire west wall was a window. The only other furniture was an armoire.

She wondered where she was, since she had no real guarantee she was even in the castle at all. Maybe he'd moved her to another one? The view from the window was of no help, showing nothing but a wide expanse of fields stretching as far as she could see. A great lake sat at the edge of her vision, but that was it.

Puzzled and bored, she decided not to wait around any longer. First she tried the windows, but they didn't budge. Then she ran her hands around the walls, searching for a panel or a button that yielded under pressure, but she found nothing. On a whim, Sarah peered under the bed.

And there it was, not even cleverly hidden, a tiny door against the wall, blocked from view to the rest of the room by the bedskirt. It opened easily, and a cold gust of wind flowed down the corridor, which was completely black.

She found she could just fit into the corridor if she squished herself, and so she crawled, cramped and uncomfortable, down the dark little tunnel.

Her memory reminded her of a tunnel full of hands, of falling out of a bubble, of walking through a dark forest, but she pushed them away. No sense in that.

The tunnel didn't go nearly as far as she expected, and soon she found herself at another little door.

Pressing her ear to the wood, Sarah listened for any sound, aware that she might be crawling into danger. Who knew what horrors filled his castle?

But there was nothing to do but crawl through the door. Even danger would be better than waiting around and starving to death. Inhaling deeply, she gathered her courage and opened the door.

She almost gasped aloud, because the room was a mirror image of her own, and for a horrible second she thought she'd crawled in a circle. She was looking out from another little door under a bed, the mattress right above her head at the exact height of her own. The same armoire and fireplace greeted her, but the room was thankfully empty.

Eager to be free of that miserably cramped tunnel, she pulled herself out from under the bed and looked around. Upon closer inspection, the room was only similar in size and orientation. These windows had heavy red curtains, the mantle had a chunk missing from it, and the bedspread and sheets were blood-red silk. The most important distinction, however, was that this room had a door. Barely able to conceal her delight, Sarah grabbed the door handle and turned, expecting it to open. But when her hand wrapped around the metal, a curious thing happened.

With a great woosh and a pop, Sarah found herself unceremoniously dragged back into the bed. She sat there in shock for a moment, but shook it off and tried again, to the same effect. She tried again, and ended back up in the same place. She was about to get up to try again, when a hand reached around and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back down into those silken sheets.

Jareth's laugh was diabolical as he pulled her close.

"That was a divine performance, darling. Simply marvelous. However, you're on my terms in my castle, so I'm afraid I get to bend things to my whim."

She struggled against his arms, surprisingly strong for their thinness, but he let her go without a fight. A ferocious glare on her face, she turned and faced him, but quieted immediately when a steaming cup of hot chocolate appeared in his hands.

Appeased, she relaxed and sipped the steaming liquid while Jareth lounged on the bed.

"This is my room, actually," he murmured, looking across the spacious but decrepit room.

She paused from her slurping to say, "I didn't think you slept."

He smirked. "Rarely, and seldom alone."

Sarah ignored that, choosing to stare out the window instead. Wind swayed through the tall grasses and made little white caps on the surface of the lake. Everything there was peaceful and gentle.

Sarah sighed and put the cup down on the floor. When she turned back to Jareth, about to ask what took him so long, she found that he was gone. But he'd left her a crystal, and she picked it up.

She saw herself in the little ball, walking around the edge of the maze, frantic and hopeless and lost. It was a memory of her first visit to the Underground. She touched her fingers to the little crystal, turning the ball around in her palm, she opened her eyes and found herself in that exact spot.

The same cold, dripping walls and seemingly endless stretch of tunnel spread out in either direction. Shivering in her thin dress, she slipped the crystal into her pocket, unsure of what to do.

"Wait a moment," she murmured, "The worm."

Sarah looked all down one side of the maze wall and couldn't find him, so she checked the other. It was after almost an hour of searching that she saw the little red scarf peeking out of a hole in the stone.

Cheered, Sarah kneeled down and tugged on the little scarf, calling, "Hello? Worm? I don't know if you remember me, but you helped me a long time ago? Worm?"

But the worm was long gone, the red scarf the only sign of his presence there. With a slight pull it came free of the crack it that pinned it down.

"Your worm is dead, you know," said the Goblin King, who was standing close enough to touch her. She turned to look at him, clutching the little red scarf between her fingers.

"Liar," she spat the word. Jareth smiled, his teeth glittering.

"He is gone. Do not dwell on it, melancholy is for fools."

The scarf in her hand dissolved with a flick of his wrist, drifting off down the cold breeze.

All the anger in her nature swelled up inside her, and she clenched her fists, feeling acutely the space where the scrap of fabric once sat.

Standing straight, she said hotly, "All you do is destroy and steal and lie. If all you brought me here for was to remind me of what I've lost, then you can just let me go."

"What nonsense. Come here, to my side, Sarah."

Wary, she inched a fraction of an inch closer to him.

"Tch, that won't do," he said, flicking his wrist again and pulling her close. Then they were flying upwards, higher and higher. Terrified, Sarah clung to his side and fought off a scream.

They came to a shuddering halt top of the highest point in the kingdom: the spire of the castle. They were at least thirteen stories above the ground, but Jareth was as relaxed as if he did this every day, perched on the tip like a bird on a branch. Sarah was highly aware that Jareth's magic and his arm wrapped around her were all that separated her from a deadly drop.

"Look at that, Sarah," he said, gesturing out in front of him with a wide gesture. "This, all this, is yours. You beat the Labyrinth, Sarah, you're entitled to all of it if I say you are. And I do."

She looked. The Goblin City spread out in front of them with it's vast, sprawling mazes and forests. Behind her, that wide, empty plane spanned hundreds of acres, out until it was nothing more than a fine line of mist in the distance.

And it was beautiful, all of it. The maze was like an intricate mosaic, and the trees waved softly in the breeze. From this height the smog, which seemed endless on the ground, was a soft amber glow that gave way to brilliant blue skies above.

Jareth spoke again. "All of it is yours. You need only say the word, and it is yours. It was always yours, and you can never truly be happy anywhere else."

He was staring at her intently, lit up by a shaft of sunlight that made him painfully beautiful to look at. His eyes held hers.

"You have no idea, no idea, how lonely it was, you cruel, beautiful girl. For god's sake, come back to me."

_xx_

_Well, there you go. Chapter three. How do you like Jareth? I tried to make him a little bit despicable. Just a little bit. Anything you'd like to see? I'm always open to suggestions._

_-Vi_


	4. Four

**Four**

With a surprising gentleness, Jareth carried Sarah down to a balcony fifty feet below and set her back on her feet. There was a silence as they looked at each other.

"I realize that I've been a bit...vague about the nature of your visit here, but I promise that you'll understand."

She smiled at him. It wasn't the sort of sentence that demanded a reply. With a sad, wise smile, Jareth faded slowly from her view, leaving her alone.

She sat down to catch her thoughts. The balcony was decayed and breaking, chunks of marble conspicuously missing from the railing. Above her, a bird was building a nest on a rusted wall sconce. Everything was still.

Sarah couldn't tell if the surreal feel of this whole day was because she was ill, or if it was just the nature of the Labyrinth itself to be changeable and confusing. Her emotions had been out of control her entire visit, ranging from moments of intense sweetness to feelings of violent rage.

And yet, it was the freest she'd felt in a long time. There had been a fundamental shift in her perceptions, or maybe she just came a bit more out of her coma.

At home, she felt a constant external pressure and little resistance from within herself. The result was a sort of waking daze, as Sarah's life passed by her while she watched as a passerby.

But now, there was a solidity to everything. Even though her time Underground was dazing and incomprehensible, she felt every minute of it with an aching consciousness, as if someone had removed a blindfold from her sight and she was seeing everything for the first time.

All of her senses were alive with feeling. She could taste the energy in the air, and her skin delighted at the sheer sensation of her body brushing against sound and color and fragrance.

Rising to her feet, she breathed deeply. Overhead, the sun sat directly above her in the sky. It hung so delicately she felt that the slightest noise might knock it down.

_xx_

Miles away, Jareth smiled into his crystal. He could see her standing there, so unaware of how different she was from the rash, impulsive girl he knew from so long ago. He admired her quiet composure. He hated her continual resistance, her fierce will, her disobedience.

But it was working. She could hear the call of the magic, feel it beating in her soul. The true nature of the Labyrinth was slowly revealing itself to her. Stripped of her childhood innocence and naivety, she was realizing the truth.

Only a few more steps. Only a few more hours and it would be all over. It was only a matter of time.

_xx_

Sarah didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke up, the heaviness in her limbs and the foggy feeling in her head made her think she'd been out for at least a few hours. Still, it was a shorter time asleep than the last time she'd been here. Progress?

Lifting her head from blood red silk sheets- how had she gotten into his room?- Sarah saw the night sky glimmering through the windows.

Not even thinking fully about what she was saying, she mumbled, "I wish I could see the Goblin King right now!"

What Sarah expected was that he would happen was that Jareth would come to _her,_ and she could curl up and hazily demand answers to her various questions.

What actually _happened_was that she was pulled through the air to him at a lurching, dizzying speed, landing in a heap on the ground. She promptly fainted.

Jareth had been occupying himself with state matters, and suddenly there she was, half dressed in her sleeping shirt, passed out on the floor of his study. For the first time in years, Jareth was surprised.

Propping her up on his couch, he stood over her and watched her regain a semblance of consciousness.

"What were you doing, using your powers, precious? You're not strong enough." he murmured, crouching down to her so he was at her eye level.

"It hurts," she groaned, eyes shut.

"You've been gone from the Underground for a long time. If you'd just stop resisting me, you'd stop getting sick. Quite simple, really."

She mumbled a phrase that sounded like "no power", but he couldn't be sure.

"No, I don't have any power over you. But you're lying to yourself if you're trying to deny what happened between us." Jareth leaned over her, whispering in her half- conscious ear. "You can never just _leave_Labyrinth, Sarah. Accept that, and you will find unimaginable joy."

When Sarah finally woke up, she was alone. She couldn't tell if the conversation had really happened, or if she'd imagined it, but either way, she couldn't get it out of her head.

_You __can never __just __leave._

The sentence rang in her head as she got her bearings at sat up. She found herself in a lavishly appointed study, filled with books and facing a roaring fire. It was dark and smoky. There were no windows and no doors. Again.

Abruptly, Sarah Williams was sick of being bossed around. She knew the Labyrinth, knew its castle and its king, and she was above the rules four walls and a ceiling were imposing on her.

Didn't the Underground know who she was? She was Sarah, not some frail, fainting waif. Without realizing it, Sarah was in her element.

She stood to her feet, charged with a fierce energy, and walked to the nearest wall. Tall and strong and angry, she touched the solid, stone surface, and said,

"Castle, you let me out of this room. You have no power over me."

As easily as if they were made of clay, the walls spread apart and made a door exactly Sarah's height.

"Enough of this nonsense," Sarah murmured, walking through the door. "Time to get some answers."

With a satisfying click, Sarah shut the study door behind her and walked into the starlight.

_xx_

_Salut!_

_Thank you for the nice reviews! If you'd like a snippet of the next chapter, leave me a review asking for one, or PM me if you'd prefer. I'd post it here but I don't want to spoil it for people who don't want to know._

_I hope today is treating you kindly!_

_-Vi_


	5. Five

_So, quick little bitch session. Thirty people have this story on review, and about 1/3 of those people added it to alerts after the last chapter. However, only 2 people left a review, which was fairly discouraging._

_Any chance you guys could leave me a review? It's my birthday soon… GUILTGUILTGUILT *doe eyes*_

_-Vi_

_ps. Sorry for the delay. I know, I suck._

* * *

><p><strong>Five<strong>.

The hallway was cool and quiet, and the thick, decaying carpet underfoot muffled the sound of her footsteps. Sarah felt like a ghost.

Her sense of purpose and urgency had not diminished, though, and her whole body tingled with knowledge of some distant, dawning realization. It had a physical force, and her nerves were on edge, almost humming an unceasing mantra, electrified.

_Soon, soon you'll understand. Soon, so soon. Soon._

And then she was running down the hallway, abandoning her shoes, her hair flying around her face as she bolted towards the pull of that actualization.

_Soon._

_Come on, feet._

Abruptly, she exploded out a set of doors onto a wide courtyard made of stone. Its only feature was a beautiful silver pool. She could hear a high, wild singing on the wind above her, but she felt no cold. That shimmering pool glistened, beckoning.

She drew closer to it, simultaneously repulsed and entranced by the glittering, moving water. It was reflective to the point that she couldn't see beneath the surface, and only her own image greeted her.

Sea green eyes. Strong cheek bones. Power. She looked like a queen.

The silver water began to ripple and roll like mercury, and a small green tendril, as thin as a tiny snake and just as animate, curled its way up through the surface and grew, winding around itself and twisting, growing into- into what?

The vine was multiplying, twisting and curving into itself like a ball of snakes. The wild singing of the wind increased in tempo. Sarah pulled away from the edge of the pool, horrified.

A new tendril grew out of the ball and slithered towards her, and she could feel it coiling around her ankle, dragging her back. Sarah didn't scream or fight, just stared in wide eyed wonder as it dragged her to the edge, and she was going to fall, be dragged under, drown in that horrible, twisting silver-

And then it stopped. The vine let go, recoiling like a rubber band pulled tight and released. The writhing tangle of green tendrils collapsed into itself and became nothing more than a shimmering green ball, glimmering with an internal light like a marble. She couldn't help it, Sarah reached out across the water and touched the little ball, and with a burst of fragrance and color the ball, once so horrible and twisting, transformed into a delicate purple water lily.

It hovered above the surface, ethereal and beautiful. Softly illuminated, Sarah thought she'd like to sit there by the edge of that pool and watch it hover forever.

Meanwhile the howl of the wind had escalated into a turbulent roar, and then it wasn't a roar at all but a baby's cry, loud and plaintive and_in pain._

"Toby!" Sarah cried, realizing at once the danger of the situation. "Toby! Toby I'm coming!" The flower shattered and sunk beneath the rippling surface of the silver water.

Rising to her feet, she ran to the other side of the courtyard only to run into herself, because the doors were suddenly huge mirrors. All she could hear was Toby's cry and a high, echoing laugh all around her.

Throwing herself against the mirror with all her might, and with a sound like gunshots, she felt the silvered surface crack. Then everything around her lit on fire, blazing and hot, and _oh god Toby was crying, oh help Toby, oh God!_

Then the glass was broken, and she pushed through with all her might and exploding into darkness and-

Sat up, gasping for breath, choking on the air she breathed, expecting the hot taste of ash and heat every second but finding only sweet fragrance and blessed coolness.

_A dream._

Looking around, Sarah found herself lying by the edge of that pool in the courtyard, but everything was still and silent and sweet. She couldn't help it, she clutched at the spot above her heart and felt it beat, just to check.

Her fingertips brushed the cool water, not silver now, just water, and traced the outlines of the purple lilies that floated there en masse, so many in number that she couldn't see the bottom.

She shuddered.

"More mind games, Goblin King? You'll have to do better than that." Her voice was shaky, but she meant what she spoke, and a ring of conviction shone through her rasping.

"Come on, feet," she mumbled, trembling with exhaustion, and stood up.

She didn't have any time to waste.

xx

Jareth scowled at the sky. Damn her. Damn her. Damn her.

The King had tried almost everything. He'd tried dazzling her with beauty at the summit, but she was resolute. He'd tried enticing her with dreams, but she broke free. His attempts to disorient her with drowsiness had only made things worse, since she'd apparently gotten the notion in her fevered brain that she had to escape. He couldn't use force, because he _had no power over her_ in that sense.

She was weak from fending him off, he could see that, but he was running out of time. Soon she would leave him.

He had one vein left to remind Sarah Williams why she ought to stay with him forever.

As an immortal, Jareth appreciated the concept of discretion and understood that all good things come to those who wait. It was for that reason (and that reason only) that Jareth hadn't tried his last move sooner.

But a man of flesh and blood, however timeless, he was very much enjoying the thought of Sarah William's final temptation. He was confident she'd… respond to it with fervor. And if Jareth had any say about it, it was going to be quite a wakeup call.

XXX

Sarah was half convinced she was having another dream when she first heard the barking.

Wandering through the Goblin City, it had just occurred to Sarah that she had absolutely no concept of how to get out of the Labyrinth. Last time it had been the completion of her test that set her free, but there was no goal this time, was there?

Flopping down, Sarah was fighting off the urge to cry, and she heard it.

The distinctive, nearby braying of Ambrosius the dog, and riding on his back was- no, surely that wasn't- but it _was_! Sir Didymus!

Leaping to her feet, she ran with a light heart to greet the two creatures, but Didymus had a strange, wary expression on his face that stopped her. He dismounted from his dog and walked towards her hesitantly, like she might leap at him. Sarah was bemused.

"Brave knight!" she began, but he stopped her by marching up to her with his hand on his sword.

"Thou art yet a mortal?" he asked, and she had to stop and wonder at that. _Was she still human? What sort of question was that?_

"Yes, of course. Sir Did-"

The knight marched right up to her face and looked into her eyes. She'd never noticed how intense his gaze could be. He leaned back and took her in, seemingly satisfied with what he found there. His face softened and he took her hand. How small he looked…

"Fair lady, it is most wonderful to see you, but we must leave here at once. We haven't a moment to lose. Come, come," he began to pull her away with him, and he was so small that she had to crawl to keep up with him, unwilling to wrench her hand away.

"Wait," she said as the knight mounted his steed. "Sir Didymus, wait, please, tell me what's going on!"

But he wasn't listening, resolutely adjusting his stirrups, his paw still clutching her hand. His expression was one of fixed, unwavering determination, and it unnerved her.

"No time," he said, "We must away at once. I pray that I'm not too late. Oh, that I'd heard of you sooner. Quickly!"

Then he was moving at an alarming rate and Sarah couldn't keep up. She had to stand up and jog next to them, but the roads were paved with cobble stones and it was hard. All the while she kept asking Didymus to stop, but he wouldn't, and kept pulling her forward down the narrow streets towards the gates.

She didn't want to leave. That wasn't the way out. The way out was with _him_. She felt that as sure as she knew that an exhale must follow an inhale.

With a jolt, Sarah wrenched her hand free. Ambrosius skidded to a stop and Didymus looked at her, sword drawn, furious.

"Sarah Williams, against all the code of chivalry that has dwelt in my breast since I took my sacred vows, I swear to you that should you continue to resist me, it shall be a duel without boundaries. I am bound to defend this land," he seemed to swell with some passion, and Sarah looked on in shock, "A promise which trumps whatever friendship we may have shared. Declare yourself, lady!"

"Whoah, whoah," she said, holding her hands out in front of her. "What is going _on _Didymus_? _We're on the same team here, I'm trying to escape, alright?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I am no fool. The Goblin King is persuasive and treacherous, he has, no doubt, offered you a Temptation. If you do not consent to be escorted out at once, I will believe you've accepted it."

Sarah meant to phrase her question delicately, to soothe his passion, but all that came out was, "Wha-?"

He sighed. "A Temptation?" She just blinked at him. "A Temptation is an offer made by the Goblin King. If you accept it, he can grant you your dreams, but you will be forever in his power. If you refuse it-"

"Then he has no power over you," Sarah finished flatly. She should've known there was more to those damn crystals than she thought.

Didymus seemed satisfied. "The way I recall it, he offered you two Temptations when you first came here."

Looking away from the knight in front of her, Sarah remembered the flash of silver, the shimmering crystal, that delicate, lingering voice murmuring,

_I have brought you a gift…_

_It's a crystal, nothing more._

_But if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams._

_Do you want it?_

"I remember. He called it a gift."

"That was a lie," said Didymus, with noticeable venom, "Which you overlooked in your innocence. He would have exploited your maiden naïveté. It was your noble steadfastness which was your salvation, and it served you well when you refused him a second time."

_But what no one knew is that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers..._

"And your choice was just and correct, for once ensnared in the golden cage of the Underworld, you can never leave it."

His voice was sadder than Sarah had ever heard it, and she sensed in his words that Sir Didymus was perhaps once offered a similar choice, and regretted his decision. But she didn't ask.

"So that's why he brought me back, to tempt me a third time?"

Didymus nodded, his sword lowered now. He seemed more at ease, if not a little depressed. "That is my theory. When I happened upon you I feared that you had already succumbed to his wishes, and then you would have been quite dangerous."

She quirked her head to the side, "How?"

Didymus grimaced. "Well, I cannot answer you with certainty, my lady. But the Goblin King would not pursue you with such ardor if you were not a maiden of veritable importance. Not to diminish your own merits individually, naturally, but I fear that the king is rather a selfish sort of person."

She almost laughed. "Well, you don't need to worry. I've got no interest in staying."

Sarah expected that statement to ring true in her mind, so it was with considerable alarm that she felt the lie on her lips. That sentence simply was not true, and she knew it. Staying in the Underground had considerable appeal for her, but something told her that Didymus couldn't know that.

She smiled. He smiled.  
>"Listen, I know how to get out of here. It's not through the maze, it's with the Goblin King."<p>

That much was true. She felt that with absolute certainty, and she marveled that she'd never realized it before. The exit was simply there, with him. Trying to go through the maze had felt so _wrong_, and she supposed that their relationship had to come to a head at some point.

All the fibers in her nature were drawn to him like a needle to a pole. It was magnetic, electric.

"And I know where he is." She continued, again feeling him instinctively.

She could find him anywhere now. It was if something in her had changed, altered, like a camera lens going finally focusing after years of blurry pictures. Sarah simply _understood_.

The Labyrinth was her domain, her element, and she had a mastery of it now. Nothing would stop her.

Didymus nodded, approvingly, as if he sensed her change in attitude.

"The Tower, of course." He said quickly. As if on a cue, they both looked back at the looming tower that dwarfed the kingdom. At its tip, the glimmering point of the spire glistened, exactly the same as when she'd stood there with the king the day before, looking out over the entire kingdom, feeling vibrant and alive.

She'd been so close to the truth, and she'd never known it.

But now things were different. Now things would not be the same again.

xx

_Well, I have to admit I'm quite proud of this chapter. Hard to write, but there ya go. I hope all the trippy stuff isn't a turn off for you guys. Let me know if it's confusing and I'll explain it to you, provided it's not something the next chapter will explain._

_Oh, and that snippit will be in the next chapter, it turns out, if you got it from reviewing._

_-Vi_


	6. Six

**Six**

The tower. Didymus had said the tower. Running back into the castle Sarah found that she knew the way instinctively. She compared it to the feeling of walking around her apartment at night. Even in the dark, she knew the way around from memory. The Tower loomed up in front of her, exactly where she expected it to be, and she lost no speed as she pushed through the door.

Up she climbed, farther and farther, but the steps seemed never to change. It was the most curious thing. The scene in front of her never changed, and it felt like she wasn't moving at all, even as she felt herself taking steps upward. Only the unceasing pull of gravity on her in the form of the burning in her limbs convinced her of the trick. Stairs went places. That was fundamental, and she knew it held true even in the Underground. The only thing to do was climb.

Tired, disoriented and hungry, Sarah's determination and anger fueled her on her quest upwards.

As her feet pounded the stone, she heard voices in the reverberations.

_Piece of cake._

It seemed like she'd been Underground for days. How much time had passed in the human world? Where was her body?

_Love me. Fear me._

Everything ached.

_Your worm is dead, you know._

She concentrated, and although it cost her monumental energy, she kept picking up her foot and setting it back down, like a hammer on an anvil. Each step was harder than the last.

_It's farther than you think, and time is short._

How could she keep this up? No one had strength to endure this. But she kept walking. The footsteps were like gunshots now, echoing around her head. The view in front of her wavered like a silken sheet and Sarah fell, catching herself at the last minute. She was resolute, firm in her ideas even while she was weak in bodily strength.

_I'm going to make you remember…_

"No!" her own voice shocked her, true and clear in the foggy air. She sat down and closed her eyes as the world grew less hazy.

Another test. Another trick.

Still, Sarah smiled. She was getting closer.

His voice was low and smooth in her ear, drifting lazily across her body. She sat up and saw him standing on the step above her, a sardonic smile on his face. For a moment, there was something else on his experession, too. It was a decidedly human expression, she knew that for certain. It might have been relief or pleasure, or it could have been demonic glee or twisted amusement. Either way, it chilled her.

With a serpentine flair, he turned around and walked a few steps up to a door rooted in the stone walls of the tower. Looking at it closely and checking her memory, Sarah was absolutely certain the door hadn't been there a moment ago.

He left the door open behind him, and a cool breeze washed over her, wiping away her fatigue and heat. Breathing deeply, she stood up and walked out the door.

It shut firmly behind her.

The view opened out over the labyrinth- no, she had to correct herself, because it was more than just the labyrinth. It was the entire Underworld. Sarah could see farther this time than she could the last time she stood with Jareth at the summit of this tower.

Beyond the Labyrinth was a vast body of water to one side and far off in the distance another city twinkled at her. The sky above her was stormy.

That huge expanse before her was almost overwhelming in its scope. She'd never been able to see so far in her entire life, and it frightened her.

Turning to seek the comforting solidarity of the tower walls, she found only more expanse behind her, just as dizzying and vast as the scene in front of her. The tower was gone, and the balcony hung in midair supported by- by- _nothing_.

Sarah let out a little scream as she felt her perception of the world lurch with a nauseating vertigo. Which way was up? Which way was down? She could feel herself slipping, falling, losing her grip on direction from the sheer impossibility of what her senses were telling her.

Cool fingers wrapped around her torso and held her fast, and Sarah clung to him as the world righted itself.

"I apologize," he murmured, "You weren't expecting that. I ought to have anticipated your charmingly human incredulity." His breath fanned across her exposed neck like an arctic wind.

A tremor passed through her entire body, and Jareth laughed, feeling it through her thin clothing. Sarah drew away from him, only a few steps in case the vertigo descended again, and looked at him, hard.

He smiled, cocking his head to one side like a bird. "Well, Sarah?" he drew out her name so that it was two syllables, letting it linger on his tongue.

"I don't understand," she murmured, looking around her, acutely aware that for several hundred feet in all directions there was nothing but air.

He smirked. "The Underground is flat," he explained. "Without the curvature of the Earth, you can see much further." She blinked. Oh.

"See now," he trilled, "Not so frightening as you imagined. "

"So... The Underground isn't governed by the laws of nature."

Jareth laughed. "To use a colloquialism from your time, 'duh', Sarah."

"But last time I was up this high... I couldn't see that far... Last time..." Sarah was infuriated with herself for not being able to get the words out, but she couldn't help it. It was just so startling to be here.

The King flicked his wrist impatiently, "_Last _time you were twice as naive as you are now. You know more this time, so you see more. That's how Underground works."

Finding her sense of indignation, Sarah pointed at where the Tower ought to have been. "You made the Tower vanish!" she said, half a question and half an accusation.

"True, true," said the king, pulling off his gloves and tucking them carefully into a fold of his cloak. "But I'm afraid I can't reveal all my secrets, precious. Some things are..._private._"

She narrowed her eyes. "I want to go home."

Was that a wince? "You are home."

She laughed, high and wild like the wind. "Liar."

Her words hit him with a physical force, and he tensed up, as if he wanted to leap at her. Reflexively, she glanced behind her to that dizzying drop and felt herself grow still. No, probably best not to upset the Goblin King at this height.

When Sarah looked back, he'd clearly regained composure.

"Well, if that's how you feel, then you've got to ask me correctly. Have you forgotten the first thing you learned here, Sarah?"

Narrowing her eyes, Sarah reflected back to Hoggle. Her mind ambled lazily down her memory.

_Piece of cake._

"Let me out."

He grinned at her and his teeth glimmered as he pulled a delicate crystal out of his pocket, the most beautiful crystal he'd ever made. It shimmered with a fractured glow like a diamond, reflecting all the colors in varying facets.

But he did not offer it to her.

"One thing, Sarah, before you go." his voice was silk covering metal. "Come here," he purred, opening his arms.

Squaring her shoulders, she said, "No," in as firm a voice as she had.

He lowered his arms and regarded her coolly. "Well, well, you won't even let me talk to you now? Intolerant woman."

Sarah said nothing, holding his gaze.

"Listen, Sa_rah_," he said, and his tone was pragmatic, exasperated. Like someone talking to a child refusing to accept reason. "_Look_ at what I'm offering you here."

She did. The crystal swirled and glimmered like an enticing jewel.

"You could be a queen here. You could have power, skill, beauty, love." She couldn't help it, her gaze flickered up to his and the connection left her breathless. It was like Pandora's box, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from him.

"Here," his voice ghosted across the wind, "you could be a goddess."

"You can't tempt me." she whispered.

Jareth smiled. "Of course I can't. Not you of all people. I don't need to."

He relaxed his stance and took a step away from her. "You're too clever, Sarah. It's going to get you in trouble."

She glanced over the edge of the floating platform and back at him.

"I'd catch you if you tried to jump, you know." his laugh was entirely without mirth.

"I'm not interested in running, Jareth. This...we need resolution." She spoke clearly. "We've got some sort of weird connection, but I can't stay here. My life is with my family. Aboveground." She added pointedly.

"I know how nice it would be to just stay here and forget everything," she continued, "to fade away and be another one of your conquests," He gave her a hard look at that, which she ignored.

"But I'm not like that. The whole point of me winning the Labyrinth was that-"

"Is that you _won _it, Sarah." He growled. "You won the Labyrinth. _All_ of it."

There was a gaping, cavernous silence. Jareth looked annoyed.

"How obtuse can you be, Sarah? You have part of the Underground _in you_, always. What you fail to understand is that, if you ignore what you are, what you have in your soul, that part of you will wither away and die."

Sarah was furious. "When," she spat, "were you planning on telling me that little piece of information? 'Oh, hey Sarah, guess what? When you beat the Labyrinth you actually became its new ruler!' _Would it have been so damn hard to have sent me an owl or something!"_

Jareth looked offended. "Whoever said anything about being the ruler? That is decidedly my job. No, what you got out of it is your _certain powers._"

She clenched her fists, wanting to leap at him. "My _what_?"

He had the audacity to smile. _"'__But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers__.' _Don't you remember that story, Sarah? It was you who told it to me, after all. Hit the nail on the head, unfortunately." he sighed ruefully, a smile quirking the corners of his lips.

"So," he continued, "I'm afraid you can't properly leave me. Not unless you're prepared to watch the part of you that belongs here, the part that belongs to _me_, die."

A tiny part of Sarah let out a little sigh of release and pleasure. _At last,_ it seemed to say, _at last I get it. _Some small part of her was soaking up his words with delight, basking in the knowledge that had evaded her for seven years. _At last._

However, the dominant part of Sarah Williams was exquisitely, relentlessly, gloriously angry. Her fury coursed through her veins, lighting her on fire, and a consuming desire for violence, for release, trilled through the nerves in her body.

Suddenly, the balcony was irrelevant; the city sprawling around them was a speck on her mental horizon. Everything but that rage faded away.

Her anger was a triumph, a proof that she was right, evidence that she had been lied to and denied her freedom of choice.

She marched right up to him and his glittering, cold eyes. "I hate you," she growled, and he grinned wider, pulling her close to him, very, very close, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Static tingles shot between them like angry hornets.

"I hate you," she breathed, and her anger had discovered an outlet in her hands, pulling him closer to her with a vicious force.

With a smile like a devil, he murmured, "I know, Sarah. I know," and kissed her, hard.

This kiss was a battle, an ocean, a release. His lips were hard an unyielding against hers, and she was fighting to kiss him harder, to pull herself impossibly closer to him with all the force she had.

His hands were around her waist, and he crushed her against him so that she felt the breath dragged out of her, like he wanted to consume it himself. He tasted like metal and fire, and her body responded in equal measure, dealing out all the hatred and passion in her nature.

She couldn't help it, he was magnetic.

The vertigo descended on her again, but it was a different sort of disorientation. It wasn't just her sense of up and down that escaped her, it was _everything. _She could hardly remember her own name; the force of her anger and lust was too consuming. Nothing mattered but this connection.

He pulled away to look at her, one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped securely around her waist. He looked her straight in the eye and murmured, "Mine." Before descending on her mouth again.

And that crystal, glimmering in the sunset, beckoned.

xx

_This was hard to write. Leave me a nice review?_

_-Vi_


	7. Seven

...Recaps from chapter six...

_"Let me out."_

_He grinned at her and his teeth shone as he pulled a delicate crystal out of his pocket, the most beautiful crystal he'd ever made. It shimmered with a fractured glow like a diamond, reflecting all the colors in varying facets._

_But he did not offer it to her._

_xx_

"_I'm afraid you can't properly leave me. Not unless you're prepared to watch the part of you that belongs here, the part that belongs to me_, die."

* * *

><p><strong>Seven<strong>

Sarah and the Goblin King kissed like two people possessed.

The embrace was all consuming now, spreading through her like a fire. Sarah was having trouble breathing properly. She pushed at him, but he was relentless, his arms like iron bars around her waist and chest. She'd begun to see bright lights before her eyes.

Lashing out to no avail with her arms, Sarah bit his lip. Hard.

He pulled away and dropped her, reaching his hand up to his mouth and then looking back at her, irritated and surprised.

For her part, Sarah was collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. The oxygen flooding her lungs was a balm. She coughed painfully looked at him. The two of them stared at each other, wary.

That passion was slowly receding from her limbs, and she felt a mastery of her emotions return to her.

"So," he said, a fierce light in his eyes that could have been lust or fury, or even hope. For all Sarah knew, it might've been some combination of the three.

"What is your choice? Will you stay?" Jareth's voice rang with a barely controlled passion.

She stared at the bloody cut on his thin lips, at the fine, shredded edges of his cloak, and shook her head, a gesture of defeat. But she was silent.

Jareth kneeled down to her level and looked into her eyes.

"Sarah, stay. You must stay."

She laughed in a short, humorless burst. "You haven't left me with many options. You've made it clear that I can't leave you."

She was hoping to avoid the question, and he knew it. "Come come," he snapped. "Don't evade me."

Abruptly, Sarah was angry again. "Oh, sure, _I'm _not allowed to dodge the question but _you_ can be as mysterious and cryptic as you like. For God's sake, who do you think I am?"

"You're my queen," was all he said. She stopped at that, taken aback. Another huge silence. Jareth chuckled, "I suppose that was a proposal, wasn't it?."

Savagely, Sarah growled, "I refuse."

He just smiled. "It wasn't a question, precious."

"You can't decide for me!"

"We both know the only answer is yes. I merely state the inevitable eventuality. You can deny it, but it's true."

"You cannot _force_ me to stay!" she insisted, furious tears rising in her eyes, blurring her vision and making her head swim.

"Ah," he sighed, "I cannot. But I can, however, make it impossible for you to leave, and therein lies the difference."

Still on hands and knees, he crawled towards her, and Sarah backed away, frightened of him. She was inching closer and closer to the edge of the platform, but he kept advancing, heedless of the gaping drop behind her.

She'd reached the edge, and she looked back at the drop and back at Jareth, who was grinning like a panther. She felt sick, and for a crazy second Sarah wanted to keep backing up until she fell.

In a moment of clarity, Sarah lunged for the glittering silver orb that would take her home. She grasped it in her palms, and Jareth didn't try and stop her, but his eyes were full of wildness.

Sarah had made her decision and Jareth knew it. Turning the orb like she'd seen him do so long ago as a child in her father's bedroom with Toby, Sarah prepared to go home, to leave this confusing, passionate man for a life she understood.

Everything was all settled in her mind as she twisted. As she was turning it, Jareth smiled, his face the picture of triumph.

She turned it three times in her palm, expecting the rush of movement.

Nothing happened.

Sarah did not find herself back in her old bedroom.

The orb had not taken her home.

Jareth was on his feet in a moment, his arms in the sky, his eyes blazing as he laughed roaringly. To Sarah, he looked mad. His cloak was fluttering wildly behind him, because the wind had picked up in strength, blowing so hard that it made hearing difficult. He reached his arms above his head in triumph as he laughed.

The sky above them exploded into brilliant shattering fireworks that whizzed by the platform, exploding in the sky above them with thundering crashes. The sound was deafening, the color of the sky was blinding.

And above all these sensory explosions, Jareth laughed and whooped in triumph.

The fireworks were right above her head, and it felt like being in a hot air balloon during the fourth of July.

Sarah was terrified.

_What had she done?_

_XX_

_Whatdidja think? Sorry for the delay._

_-Vi_


	8. Eight

**Eight**

Jareth leaned down to her and scooped her off the ground where she'd been crouching, her hands pressed against her ears to block the deafening booms and crashes of the erupting fireworks.

"You wonderful little fool!" he crowed, delighted. She could feel the rapture in his body, rolling through him in waves as he twirled her around the platform before crushing her body against his like he never planned on moving again, like he wanted their two bodies to physically mesh together.

Sarah, terrified, began to scream and hit and kick. Something was wrong, she'd made some catastrophic error. Why hadn't she gone home? She'd chosen to go home! How could he defy her will?

And over the clamorous din, she screamed from the pit of her being, "_You have no power over me!_"

He laughed harder, and with a sickening lurch, he jumped off the platform and plummeted down towards the ground, still holding her to him with a grip like iron.

As the ground rose up to meet their two bodies, merged, and a firework blew up like a fiery mortar inches from her face, Sarah blacked out, lost to a blissful blackness darker than death.

xx

When Sarah awoke, it was to a different kind of chaos. She was seated lopsidedly on Jareth's throne in the central room of the castle, but the room had changed almost beyond recognition. Instead of a simple seat and a circular room, the throne was now made of slabs of granite, masculine and unyielding beneath her. The windows, once grungy holes open to the kingdom, were towering contraptions of glass and stone that made Sarah dizzy to look at. The only thing that marked it as the former throne room were the window seats and the goblins Sarah could see timidly hiding in the corners.

In the center of the room, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, Jareth stood on a raised dais.

He was talking to a figure- no, that was a _man_. She was startled to see another person down here. All she'd ever known was Jareth and Goblins. But maybe there were kingdoms outside of Jareth's. The thought was disorienting.

She rubbed her eyes. He had high, chiseled features and wore a long sweeping cloak, like Jareth's, but it had a design of crowns embroidered on it. With a flick of his wrist, three more people emerged from the shadows by the large wooden door, nodded, and walked briskly out, conferring among themselves.

Jareth said something to the man, who nodded and bowed. He paused for a moment, and his gaze flickered over to Sarah, rigid on Jareth's icy throne. For a moment, the new man deliberated, and then put his had on his heart and bowed to her respectfully before turning and walking briskly out.

Her fingers felt like lead as she reached up to feel the crown she knew was perched on the top of her head. It was metallic and razor sharp.

"It becomes you," Jareth said, sauntering down off the raised platform to lean against a marble pillar. They were alone.

Sarah's only response was to tear it off her head, catching clumps of hair as she wrenched the unwanted thing off of her. The resulting pain was satisfying, but not to the extent that throwing the crown at Jareth's head was.

He ducked neatly, watching it ricochet off the wall and arch through the air with mild interest.

He turned his gaze back to her, unruffled. "Temper temper, Sarah"

Sarah wanted to stand up and confront him, but she was tired, so tired. There was a dull, thudding hollowness in her chest that seemed to be sapping the energy out of her. She could feel the void beating like a heartbeat, but instead of pumping warmth, it was taking something from her, something vital.

"You lied to me," she said. "That orb, you said it would take me home, but it did the opposite, didn't it?"

He chuckled and advanced a few steps towards her. "Ah, think carefully, Sarah. I never said that crystal would take you home, I merely produced it when you were speaking about going home."

"You lied to me," she repeated, sitting up a little straighter on the throne. God, she wanted to get down from this ridiculous position, to be standing on her feet again. But she wasn't sure she could stand, and Sarah wasn't about to let him see her weakness.

"I merely omitted facts and let you infer what you wanted. Jumping to conclusions always will get you into trouble, darling."

"What did it really do?" She spat. He looked at her longingly, the ghost of affection in his eyes.

"Answer me!" she said, hysteria rising in her voice. "What did that bloody orb _do_ to me?"

He looked down at his hands as if he were bored. "Can't you tell? I took away your "_certain powers"_. Now you're just any other mortal." His gaze flicked back to hers like an electric current. "Oh the delicious irony, isn't it? The tables have turned, because now, you have no power over_me._ Over anything, really."

He walked up behind the throne and bent slightly, his hands falling on to her shoulders.

"You thought that in taking the orb, you would be going home. Well," his hand traced an icy line down her neck, "It didn't. Instead, it took away your powers from you, since you didn't think to ask the right questions. Now you're here, in my throne room, and I have absorbed your powers. I've got twice as much strength."

He was whispering directly into her ear now, "And with that power, I plan on conquering more land. So I'm coordinating with my subjugates, while you're here, helpless. It's all falling together nicely."

Sarah felt like someone had poured ice water down her back. Trembling, she put a hand over the center of that beating void, that gaping chasm where her strength and vitality had once lived.

She felt like she was choking and about to cry simultaneously, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps as she faced the reality.

"_Oh, oh, oh," _she moaned, incoherent.

He bit her ear lightly and chuckled, his breath hot on her neck. Still chuckling, he set the crown back on her head. It felt like a lead weight.

xx

_So concludes chapter eight. Is this chapter eight? I don't even know, haha. It's midterms here and I'm stressed, but I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I love evil Jareth. How shall Sarah get her vengeance? How will Violet work a happy ending out of this crazy situation?_

_STAY TUNED (and review!)_

_-Vi_


	9. Nine

**Nine.**

Two days passed in a blur. She barely saw him, Jareth was so busy working on some project. There were occasionally people in the palace, strange men and women who watched Sarah hungrily, like power seeking hawks.

She could tell that he was mustering some sort of diplomatic energy, working with other (neighboring?) kingdoms, preparing for something. Every time she saw him, he barely looked at her, his eyes riveted to whatever document he was scanning, possessed by a fierce determination that bordered on mania.

She tried not to feel irritated that he'd cast her aside. Of course, he was only using her for her powers. That much was abundantly clear, but the problem was that someone probably _should_ have been paying attention to Sarah. That void where her powers had been kept up that same pounding throb every minute of every day, and she could tell she was sick.

Sarah was constantly fighting off dizzy spells, nausea and weakness. She felt disgusted and pathetic with her own state, and even tried to find her way out of the castle once, but she couldn't do it. That knowledge and mastery of the Underworld that once allowed her to create doors where there had been none and navigate without a map was clearly gone. She was easily disoriented, susceptible to tricks, and stumbling in her movements, like a child learning to walk in a world where gravity was constantly shifting. She loathed every minute of it.

The fact remained, however, that she was getting worse. When she woke up in the morning, it took her five minutes to muster the strength to sit up, and standing was another ordeal. With every passing hour, her condition got steadily worse. Sarah knew that action had to be taken, but she dreaded the idea of exposing her debilitated state to Jareth.

Walking into the throne room again in what she hoped was a casual saunter and not a trembling march, Sarah walked directly up to Jareth. It took effort, but she stood straight and strong, not giving away her weakness. Not that it mattered, since he didn't even look up from his map. Sarah felt unexpectedly awkward and embarrassed. She didn't want to face him.

"Jareth," she said, her tone reasonable, "I've been thinking."

He looked up at her, and his expression was almost interested.

"Don't keep me waiting, darling. Let's have it." he drawled.

"You stole my powers, and as aggravating as that was, you have no further use for me. Like you said, now I'm just any other mortal."

That was true, she thought, slightly pained.

"So let me go. You owe me a favor after all you've done to me, and if you ever felt a shred of affection towards me, then I command you to return me home."

He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "Hmm, an intriguing notion," he said. There was a pause. "But I think not."

Sarah felt her hope evaporate, and with it went her patience.

"You are an ass." she snapped, each word emphasized with all the malice in her body. She was sick of this man, the way he'd used her, manipulated her feelings to achieve his own ends. She'd been a fool to harbor affection for someone like him. He wasn't even human. _Those cruel eyes..._

"You are not a man," she hissed, and his eyes snapped up to hers, "You are a demon. A soul sucking demon. And you may have stolen my powers, but I will never stop fighting y-"

But she had to stop as the world began to spin. She had the sensation that she was standing on one of the Earth's poles as the world rotated beneath her. Clutching at the granite throne, Sarah fought off the urge to throw up as the room spun sickeningly around her.

Jareth reached out, saying her name and touching her hand, but she was so far gone that she couldn't even interpret his tone of voice. When she felt those cold fingers touch her arm, she let go of the throne to stumble backwards. It didn't matter that she was lost in the world now, it was better than touching _him._

She feel to the ground and things stopped spinning. A violent cough tore through her.

He was right next to her when she opened her eyes.

"How long has this been happening?"

Avoiding his gaze, she growled, "Two and a half days."

He sat back on his haunches and looked at her sharply. "You never said you were sick."

"You didn't seem interested. Anyway," she added, "it's none of your business how I feel."

Jareth's expression was impassive, but his hands were clenched and taut.

"From now on," he snapped, "You must tell me everything that happens. No secrets. Your health is of the utmost importance, and it's vital that-"

She shot him a look laced with venom. "Worried that if I die you'll lose _my_ powers?"

"Oh, honestly." he laughed, without humor, unthinkingly. "It doesn't work like that. I have them for good, you could leave and it would make no difference."

He stopped abruptly and looked at her, as if he'd said too much. She stared back unblinkingly.

She spoke very clearly, "Then why am I even here anymore?"

There was a silence, and his eyes didn't leave hers as he said, "Purely selfish reasons, believe me."

They were still sitting on the floor, cold and stiff. Jareth looked small as he sat back on his knees, the pose almost child like.

"The thing is, Sarah, I can't seem to do without you lately."

Surprise ballooned in her chest like a bubble of air.

"And once I secure everything here, I think you'll be happy. Yes, happy," he mused, looking out the window, his expression distant. He missed the unhappy expression on her face completely.

She coughed again, and despite her best efforts to stifle it, it sounded as painful as it felt. He looked back at her, concerned. Reaching out with grasping fingers, he was about to touch her forehead when she slid away from him desperately.

"You've got no right to touch me," she insisted, feeling the scrape of the harsh stone on her legs, and the throbbing rising to a fevered pitch in her chest, a drum beat. He stood, sighing.

"Oh, Sarah," he murmured, leaning down to touch her forehead anyway. A wash of cool light blinded her for a moment, dazing her. When the light receded, all she saw was his face, hovering above her. Dimly, she recognized that she was on her back. _How had that happened?_

But she wasn't concerned. The sheets underneath her were so soft. Sarah wondered who had moved her to Jareth's bed, and who was stroking her forehead so softly, like a lover.

She wanted to reach out and touch the person next to her, whoever he was, because she was sure that she knew him from somewhere.

But where was Jareth? Would he be mad that she was in his bed? Had she left her alone?

A sense of panic welled up inside her, but she was so tired and disoriented, all she could do was fight the weakness.

Next to her in bed, the Goblin King watched Sarah toss fitfully, coughing and turning. He couldn't seem to soothe her, despite his best efforts. After he made her fall asleep in the throne room, he carried her into his bedroom to watch over her. Sarah slept, and kept sleeping. It was the twelfth hour of her fitful state, and he was anxious.

As the moon rose outside his window, Jareth reflected on his actions.

He'd brought her here out of greed. He was hungry for her power, her body, her mind. In his foolishness, Jareth had assumed merely bringing here here, stealing her powers, and keeping her would be the easiest thing in the world.

But she'd fought him, in body and mind, and nothing had gone to plan. As the moonlight threw her slender body into shadow, he traced a cool hand against her forehead. The fever that was Sarah's final rebellion blazed beneath her pale skin.

Jareth knew what was ailing her even as he tried to suppress the truth in his mind. He'd stolen Sarah's vitality, the source of power that let her resist the corrupting forces of the Underworld, and it was slowly killing her. His domain, in all its degenerate glory, would eat away at her diminishing source of strength until she was no more than a shell of the woman he loved. Then she would die, abandoning him for the last time to that haunting, eternal loneliness.

Standing from the bed, the Goblin King walked over to the stone fireplace and punched it, his enhanced strength shattering the beautiful rock in one thundering blow. He put the force of his rage, his fear, and his new and directionless power into that punch, trying to make things change through the sheer impetus of his will. But Sarah did not wake.

xx

_I want to let you guys know that you leave the best reviews of any story I've ever written. Special shout out to Gen, who aptly summed up the direction I was going for in a very lovely review. I can't tell you how gratifying it was to read._

_While writing this chapter, I listened to "The Funeral" by Band of Horses on an endless loop._

_I'm really excited to write the last few chapters, and I hope you like it. Please leave me a review if you have any thoughts, or if you just want to let me know what your thoughts are on the new Hunger Games movie coming out. Or something._

_-Violet_


	10. Ten

**Ten**

In all his years of existence, Jareth never planned on being lonely.

Powerful, yes, dominating, sure, and wealthy, of course. Those were all in the cards, but loneliness was an alien concept to him until the day he began to dream of her. It was after she'd won and returned home, thoroughly out of his grasp, that the first dreams tore through his subconsciousness.

It was Sarah, always Sarah, dead in his arms, cold and still, like a lifeless doll. At the time, Jareth interpreted the dreams to mean her mortality as a human Aboveground, that soon she would grow old, have kids, and, yes, eventually die.

He'd felt pretty good about bringing her Underground. Problem solved, he thought. He could make her not age with no trouble, after he stole her powers. At the time, it seemed like the perfect solution. He'd increase in power and strength, and Sarah would live forever with him. Not a bad trade.

Sarah had unexpectedly hated him for it, though, and now she was dying in his arms. It was a perverse fulfillment of prophesy, he thought as he looked down at the object of his affection, his proudest triumph, his greatest regret, lying still and pale on his bed.

How many times had he planned on having her in his bed? But not like this, never like this.

He felt sick with fear and regret, and the sensation was so alien to him that he wanted to wretch and purge it from his system, to move on, to not care about this small little person. But he was the Goblin King, and not even his powers could save him from this sort of pain.

Self-reflection did not come easily to him, but even he could tell that he'd made a huge mistake, and now he was paying for it. He'd tempted her, and when she wouldn't take it, he tricked her. And here was the price of cheating.

_Power always has a cost._

Was this what the ancients meant when they said that? He shuddered and tucked the sheets more securely around her body, as if to save her from the forces consuming her.

"Sarah," he murmured, sitting close to her, his hand trailing across her pale neck. "What can I do? I can't save you, darling. Maybe you should hurry up and die, to leave me alone faster. Wasn't that always what you wanted? To leave me?"

In his head, he heard her saying, _"So let me go" _the way she had in the throne room.

The loneliness gnawed at him like a vicious dog, rearing its ugly head, demanding to be acknowledged. Jareth's body crumbled back against the bed, as if someone had let the air out of him very suddenly. He couldn't help wishing for the same oblivion that Sarah had. There, at least, they could share something.

Eyes closed, Jareth whispered to her unhearing ears, "But you don't have to die, do you? Would you ask that of me? Even of me?"

There was a long silence.

"Things were so much easier when we were frightened of each other." he muttered.

She was silent, of course, but he could only imagine what she would be saying right now if she was as alive and furious and wonderful as she used to be. Before.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she'd say, her eyes wide and pleading. "Jareth, _Jareth_," and he allowed himself a pleasant daydream where she pressed herself against him, pleading and soft, a furtive falling leaf of a moment, kissing him like she could change his mind with the sheer force of her longing.

And worse, Jareth _could_ save her. He had the power. All he had to do was return her, deposit her body back in her own world and watch it fill her up with all the humanity Aboveground could offer her. She would heal. Her body would come back to her, and she would curse him. She would never come back.

And so, alone in his bedroom with the body of his absent love, the Goblin King stared at the ceiling, lost.

"It all comes down to this, Sarah." he said, looking at her. "I'm too selfish and _far_ too greedy to let you die. I forbid it."

He kissed her forehead, gently, like a human lover would, and rubbed a thumb across her cheek. "_Far _too selfish," he repeated, savoring the way honesty sounded on his lips.

She was too far away to mind when he pulled back the collar of her dress, exposing the upper part of her chest. Tentatively, he put his head on her breast and listened to the slow pumping of her heart.

"So beautiful," he murmured, marveling that some part of her still lived, still fought against him. Sarah would never succumb.  
>Gently, he sat up and gathered her to him, cradling her in his arms, and wept. Jareth was not a human. Tears did not come naturally to him, and he found them alien, and wet. They were his final farewell to Sarah Williams, he thought, and let them seep out of him.<p>

With a flourish of magic that did not do justice to the magnitude of the act, the portal to Sarah's apartment opened before him, wide and terrible in its significance. Heavily, he carried her through into the cloying air of her native land.  
>All was still and quiet. Not much time had passed, even though she'd been with him for days and days. Her bed was unmade. Half a peach sat, drying, on the countertop. Her flowers looked thirsty.<p>

Jareth found himself unable to move, paralyzed by this mundane, average life that he was preparing the banish her to. Feeling sick again, he carried her to her bed and gently deposited her on it, trying to make her comfortable.

He sat in her armchair for two hours, watching her sleep in this strange, unnatural place. Gradually, the uneasiness subsided. He focused on her breathing, once so shallow, as it returned to a deep, steady rhythm that hinted at peaceful dreams and well deserved rest.

Her face relaxed from the tense expression of someone about to scream to that of a weary dreamer. Tears came again, and Jareth found them doubly annoying this time, because they were tears of loss and joy and sacrifice. Crying made no sense. He was not a man, but something about this woman, this warrior, made him acutely aware of what death and loss was like. He couldn't help it- it brought out his humanity. So he wept, and watched, and waited.

Night fell.

Sarah Williams, a young woman of power and might, stirred in her sleep. She could tell from the stiffness on the edge of her consciousness that she'd been sleeping for a long time, and not easily. Someone was sitting at the end of her bed, humming a low, rhythmic song. Was it a song? Or was he weeping? She couldn't seem to find her words to ask him. She wanted to reach out, to touch the figure, to tell him that it would be alright, but her arms were like lead.

He leaned over her, and he smelled like a foreign world, a place she knew from her dreams. That was enough for Sarah to decide that, since she was dreaming, it didn't matter what she did.

He leaned down and kissed her and she stirred feebly beneath the sheets, aching, but she couldn't remember why. There was a pain on the edge of her consciousness, and somehow the figure was connected to it, but oh, she couldn't _think_, couldn't _remember_.

He murmured something to her, a soft, musical purr that conjured up images of fireworks and starlight, of swirling blackness and dazzling light. But mostly longing.

"Sarah," he said, drawing out her name, "My queen. Remember, you need only call out for me, and I'll come back." He touched his fingers to her cheeks, his hands cold, and cradled her like that, and his eyes never left hers.

"You precious thing," he whispered, and just as she remembered who he was, and formed his name on her lips, he vanished like a wisp of smoke.

_xx_

_There's more story left to tell._

_-Vi_


	11. Eleven

**Eleven**

When she reawoke from her comatose sleep, she found her body vigorous and ready for action, almost energetic, like it was happy to see her. Her hair had never been so glossy, her cheeks so rosy, her nails so perfect and smooth. That painful ache that nearly killed her was gone. For ten minutes, Sarah had sat at her vanity, looking at her face and trying to discern what was different about her.

Anyone looking at her would think she'd been away at a spa for a week, but of course, she'd only been gone for a handful of hours in her own world. _How odd_, she thought, to look around her apartment and out the window, owning that dirty street and rainy sky as _her_ world.

But she was different. She looked faded, like a favorite t-shirt worn down to threadbare thinness. It wasn't vanity that made Sarah afraid of her new appearance, but rather the sensation that she was a shadow of the person in the Labyrinth, a mere reflection of the queen looking at her image in the lily pond.

Where was the Goblin Queen now, she wondered? It was a profoundly lonely thought.

As she left her apartment and walked down the street, Sarah felt like she was dreaming. It was as if, instead of interacting with her world, she was merely passing through. A stranger. Instead of walking forward, it felt like the world was moving by her as she stood still.

Making eye contact with anyone was jarring, because she expected eyes like the night sky and never found them. Someone spoke to her, calling out to sell her something, but she barely recognized the sound of her own name.

Haltingly, she made her way back to her apartment and collapsed on her couch, breathing deeply.

"Why is this so hard?" she mused to nobody in particular. Nobody capable of hearing her, anyway.

There was nothing physically wrong with her. The room no longer spun, her head didn't ache, and that vague nausea was gone. Had she gone for a check up, she would have been in perfect physical condition. Flawless.

"Then why do I feel so broken?" she muttered, admonishing herself immediately for voicing that thought. But the damn was leaking, and more traitorous thoughts were seeping through. She couldn't help but acknowledge the wall of emotions about to crash down on her.

There was no way to freeze the flood, and suddenly she was sobbing, curled up in a ball on her couch like the only survivor of a shipwreck.

Sarah had never felt so cut off from humanity in her entire life, and she cursed Jareth with all her might. She hated him for showing her that there was more for her than this world could offer, for condemning her to a life of comparing her reality to the dream she could be living, for stealing her and then abandoning her to this ache, this haunting loneliness. And she hated him for finally doing the right thing, for making amends through a sacrifice that must have nearly killed him.

_Is this how he felt? _Sarah wondered, thinking of those years he spent alone, the haunted look in his eyes, and she shuddered the idea of this sensation never leaving her. _Was that how his life was? Like this? _

It was enough to tighten her body further, convulsing her into a ball of limbs and matter so entangled that she never wanted to move again. If only he'd have let her die in the Labyrinth. Then she could have lived the rest of her short life in righteous anger, in a weak and trembling rage that would let her die, if not happy, then at least fulfilled.

Now, she had a choice, and it was a terrible one.

xx

Underground, the Goblin King raged. No one in living memory, not even the oldest Goblins, had seen Jareth like this. He seemed unhinged, like a vital thread within him had been cut by an unknown hand, severing his connection to what was beautiful and joyful.

He smashed the windows of the throne room, tore the silk sheets of his bed, demolished an entire wing of the castle in a fit of blinding rage that seemed to come from the fiery pits of hell itself.

And rage he did. Jareth didn't know what to destroy next.

That power, that limitless strength and dexterity that he'd stolen and duly paid for, flowed through his limbs and made him restless, conscious all the time of an excess of energy, a fierce and dragging longing for release.

Nothing but destruction seemed to please him anymore. Once a tapestry, he was now a ball of colored thread on the floor, hopelessly mired in the rubble of his former glory.

The only desire stronger than the urge to consume was his pounding lust for Sarah, her eyes, her body, her mind. He wanted her back more than anything, but there was nothing to do for it, he'd made his choice. If she wanted him, she only had to ask.

His instinct told him that if she came back willingly, on her own terms and with her self respect restored, she might not sicken. But that was pointless conjecture, since he had a realistic idea of the chances of Sarah returning to the site of her ruin.

So Jareth destroyed, because there was nothing left for him to build with.

xx

The fireworks of New Year's Eve were dazzling from the roof where Sarah sat, huddled and shivering. They exploded and pirouetted through the sky like crazed fireflies, but she couldn't help thinking of the fireworks that ripped the sky the night Jareth stole her powers. These Aboveground explosions, created to entertain, were not the result of passion and loss of control, and their dazzle was from their novelty, not their simultaneously destructive and creative energy.

Aboveground was simple in its pleasures, mild in emotions, and lacked the Underground's penchant for paradox, but it was still what Sarah knew. The daily routine of getting up from bed, brushing her hair, eating food to sustain herself, and generally carrying on like a functioning human being came back in full force, and dragged her onward like a rising tide. And it was easy to forget, in some ways.

Her life still kept that dream-like quality and passivity that made her feel like a sleep walker, and there was a detachment that pervaded every aspect of her life- except her dreams, which haunted her nightly. Always the same. The Goblin King raging, destroying, and generally carrying on like the melodramatic prat she knew and loved.

The dreams were a blessing and a torture, at once a balm and an open wound, a link and a chain, because she ached for him, for his pain, for his presence, for his vibrancy. There was nothing beautiful that didn't conjure up abstract thoughts of him, no joy that wasn't tempered by his face. Sarah missed him like you would miss breathing if you woke up one day and found yourself without air.

Desperately.

As the last firework spiraled into the sky, Sarah stood up against the wind and shivered, savoring the sheer humanity of something as primal as being _cold_.

It was so delicious to feel alive.

That night, Sarah dreamt of the Labyrinth again. She was back as a young girl, standing on the cusp of being an adult, drawn to the glamour and knowledge that come with growing up. Adult Sarah stood behind a pane of glass, furiously trying to get her younger self's attention, pounding at the glass with a violent panic choking in her throat.

"Don't go!" Sarah cried, watching her own childishness play out before her eyes again as she bit into the lying peach. "You don't need to know what happens when time runs out!"

Her own voice echoed back to her, and she felt Jareth's name on her lips like fire. Sarah woke, startled, heart pounding, teary eyed. She dragged a hand through her hair and pushed the covers off, feeling stifled and hot. Outside her window, the stars blazed like tiny fireballs, dizzying and far away.

Like fireworks.

In his bed chambers Underground, Jareth sat shivering in the dark air, staring straight ahead at the shattered fireplace. Part of the roof had been blown out, and a draft of cold, star-lit air gusted through to suck the warmth from his waking mind.

His thoughts shot out at random angles, trailed through his consciousness and sputtered out before reaching the ground.

Fireworks.

So Jareth and Sarah sat awake together, the night sky the only witness to their aching. Meanwhile, a new day was breaking.

xx

_One more chapter to go, I think. Maybe two. Who knows? I don't plan this stuff. Here's hoping these two quit angsting about and find some peace, eh? 'Bout damn time. _

_I listened to Bon Iver's beautiful song "Skinny Love" and Gotye's song "Somebody That I Used to Know" while writing this chapter. _

_-Vi_

_PS. In a fit of OCD, I went back and standardized the formatting of the chapters. Go look at the old stuff and bask in the magnificent uniformity of all the chapter headings, page breaks, and author's notes. DO IT. _


	12. Twelve

**Twelve**

Energy, clear, cold, and wintery, greeted Sarah on the first day of the New Year.

She knew right away that something was different. Even with her eyes closed, she was vividly aware of the beating presence in her room, seated on the end of her bed. Her nerves tingled, like she'd just bitten into spearmint gum.

She opened her eyes, propped herself up on her pillows, and looked at him.

Jareth had cracked, that much was highly evident. He had dark circles under his eyes, the lines on his face looked like they'd been set in stone, and there was blood on his cloak, and for some reason she was certain it was his own.

But, cliché though it might have been, Sarah could tell by his eyes. Like sparkling water left out over night, they were flat and hollow. Vacant. He didn't look happy to see her, but then again, he didn't look happy, period.

And she was frightened, not for herself for once, but for him.

Unable to control the impulse, she crawled over to him and put her head in his lap, curling her rejuvenated body around his emaciated one. It was impossible that he was here, but she was too relieved to fight it and too concerned to risk sending him away.

Looking over the edge of his knee, she could see the dawn through window of her bedroom, the curtains she'd kept from her dorm in college, the glass jars from her vacation in Maine. They were so human that she was almost embarrassed.

Her warmth had no effect on him, but she could see him staring down at her. He still smelled like nighttime, but there was the faint wisp of something burnt and rotting.

His voice was rasping and slow when he spoke. "I'm not sorry for coming here. There was nowhere else to go."

She rolled over and looked up at him, finding those eyes and holding them fast.

Their reunion was nothing like she imagined it. This was no world shaking, rock shattering light show. This was his only option, the last stop on the road of a dying man. He'd come here with no other choices, which put Sarah in a position of power.

Perhaps that was why he looked so put out.

There was a long silence, and she could see him standing on the top of a huge emotion, about to jump off into an abyss.

"It's all gone, Sarah." he choked. "I burned it down. Only ruins remain."

He took her head in his hands, gripping her tightly as if he thought she would run away. His hands tore through her hair, but she didn't mind the pain. She sat there, her head on his lap, viewing him sideways as he confessed his sins.

"My city, Sarah. I used your powers to lay waste to it. I've never known such power, it nearly killed me." His voice cut off abruptly and he drew in a sharp breath.

"I promised myself that I wouldn't come here, but...it hurt." he mumbled, like a child offering an excuse. "I saw the ruins of it all, the horrible, ghastly void, and I couldn't do it."

She would not do him the indignity of looking away.

"There was nowhere to go. Nowhere but to you. I freed you, Sarah, but you never freed me, and I couldn't just stay there, I was too weak. And I offer apologies to no one.."

She sighed ruefully, and sat up. He let her go without a struggle. Crossing her legs like a school girl, she turned her body to look at him, and his gaze never left hers, but she said nothing.

"You were always going to be the ruin of me. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. Both times that I lost you I thought that I'd won, that I'd bested you in ways you didn't understand, and that made me superior." he paused, building up to something.

"But today makes three times that you've beaten the Labyrinth, Sarah."

A ray of sunlight struck the floor, inching towards the bed, creeping like a vine on old stone.

He kicked off his boots, arched his feet, and hauled them onto her bed in a gesture that was so human that Sarah that felt like she was witnessing something private. He turned her body to face hers.

"And I suppose," he said, finding her gaze again, "that I've come to admit defeat. I haven't got any more tricks, and you've got nothing I could possibly take from you. And I was rather hoping that we could be equals."

The silence that followed was the blissful moment when the earthquake stops rumbling, when the danger ends, when the dust begins to clear.

"Well," she murmured with a reverence that surprised her, "I suppose the third time's the charm."

He looked at her for a moment, and the look of surprise on his face was so perfect that it was comical. And he must've thought so too, because suddenly he was laughing, wrapping his arms around his side to hold in his mirth. He flopped back on the bed, his bootless feet jumping in the air before crashing down on her bed with enough force to shake the bed-frame.

"You..." he chortled, clearing the tears from his eyes and looking at her from his sprawled position on her bed. "You are a magnificent creature."

"You," she said, "are getting glitter on my bed."

He grinned, unapologetic. "I'd offer you mine, but unfortunately, I seem to have lit it on fire."

She frowned. "Did you really? That was foolish of you."

He looked at the ceiling, seeing something very far away. "It struck me as the thing to do at the time."

"Well, you'll just have to rebuild it, won't you?" she said pragmatically, and he looked over at her and nodded.

"It could be done."

"Ideally with fewer chickens and bogs of stench." There was a pause, and the seriousness of mood came back. "I didn't think you would come back unless I asked for you, Jareth."

He looked at her again, really looked at her, and she blushed.

"I didn't think I would either. And I probably shouldn't have. But we both know that you have the upper hand here, Sarah. If you want me to go, you need only send me away. You will always have that power."

She paused, reflecting on that. "The thing is, Jareth, I don't want the upper hand. Equals, remember? That was your idea. I won't accept anything less that that. No more power struggles. No more games. Unless you want me to send you out of my life, you must grant us that freedom."

Jareth sat up, stony and serious again, and she respected him for it.

"Do you truly desire to be equals, Sarah? I must hear you say it. It must be your choice, untempted."

"I want to be..." she cast about, seeking the right word. "I want to be..."

Why was it so hard to think of what she wanted? Wasn't that always the question between the two of them? How to get what they wanted. _Well, what did she want?_

"I want to be friends." she said.

He threw her a quizzical look and said, "Friends," as if testing it out. "I have never had a friend," he mused.

"I want to be your friend, Jareth." She extended her hand, and he looked up at her, startled.

He took off his gloves and slowly, tentatively, held out his hand, giving her ample time to retreat. She met him in the middle, and they shook on it. A warm glow suffused the room as sunlight broke over the windowsill, and she felt the implications of that handshake down to the marrow of her bones.

It flowed through them both, a lightness of being that made the room seem brighter, the colors more vivid, and the light in Jareth's eyes flicker into twin suns.

_This is it, then,_ his expression said. _Friendship_.

He seemed in awe of her, of that feeling. The look on his face was that of a man holding his newborn child for the first time. He looked at their joined hands and at her face and joy, unadulterated joy, expanded to fill the shaky void of her world.

When he closed the space between them and kissed her, she could almost hear the ringing bells of redemption in his mind. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him, cradled her body against his in a protective gesture.

"That," he breathed reverently against the skin of her neck, "Was better than sex."

She laughed and kissed him again, because what else could she do? She loved him.

"Still though," he said, his old humor leaking into his voice. "When we get back, I'm going to build us a proper bed. Not this creaky, wooden thing. Honestly, half the building would know if you ever brought a gentleman caller home."

"What kind of girl do you take me for?" she asked, poking him in the side.

He raised an eyebrow, "Well, Sarah," (and the way he drawled out her name was positively sensual), "At the moment, you're the type of girl who lets a strange, desperate man into her bed while wearing, I might add, nothing but her underthings."

She glanced down at her bed clothes and he smirked. She sat up, feigning outrage.

"Does my scandalous position shock you?" she said. Deftly, she leaned across him and snatched the cloak off his back. As light as a fairy, she danced off her bed and wrapped the dark fabric around her body.

"Well then, need I remind you that my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom-"

The look in his eyes was dryly murderous. "Finish that quotation, and I'll come over there and stop your mouth myself."

She smiled and opened her mouth. He was on his feet in a moment, grinning, holding her again, kissing her, his queen, his Sarah, his friend.

The light crept across the floor, traveling up their entwined, liberated bodies, and settling on the top of their heads, twin crowns of sparkling sunlight on the first day of forever.

Sarah Williams never finished that sentence, but somehow, she didn't mind.

_xx_

_Let's face it, I'm a happy endings kind of girl._

_Thank you for sticking with me through this story, I hope you enjoyed it. _

_The song I listened to while writing this chapter was "Toxic" by Yael Naim. _

_If you've read the whole thing (bless you!) leave me a review and tell me your thoughts, or what your name is and what you're all about. I'd be fascinated to hear about the hardy lot of you who stuck around for all twelve chapters. _

_You're all marvelous, by the way. _

_Love,_

_Violet. _


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